


Phoenix Lover

by miltonicsimile



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ancient China, Angst, Forgiveness, Hurt, JunHao - Freeform, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, coup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22012765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miltonicsimile/pseuds/miltonicsimile
Summary: “How could you do this?” Junhui asked, voice soft and laced with hurt. “I don’t understand.”“You said the only way we could be together is if you were the emperor,” Minghao said earnestly, eyes wide, pleading. “You said if you were emperor there would be no one to question you, to question our love, to cast doubt or disdain upon us. Don’t you understand? I did this for us. So we could be together like we’re meant to be.”+Minghao would do anything for Junhui. But what should Junhui do when his lover becomes a monster for them to be together? What crimes can't he forgive? What does any of it matter when it means he is now the most powerful man alive?
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 9
Kudos: 99





	Phoenix Lover

**Author's Note:**

> this is me bullying myself into writing
> 
> also I know in Chinese mythos phoenixes don't burn but we went w a metaphor ok

Junhui had expected to be dragged before the emperor’s blood-stained throne with his wrists bound behind his back, dressed in rags, his skin bloodied and bruised. He had expected to be locked up in the dungeons. He had expected a blade through his belly the first night the city was sacked.

Instead, he had been kept unharmed in his own chambers under guard and brought meals three times a day. With his meals came whispered apologizes and accounts of the outside horror from servants. None of it hid the destruction that had befallen the rest of the city.

When he heard the name of the man behind the coup it all suddenly made sense. It made Junhui wish he had received that blade through his core because it would have hurt less than learning this truth.

Outside his bedroom window, thick clouds of smoke covered the area for servals li. The smell of it was constant, mixed with that of blood and fear. Junhui had never known fear to have a smell but in the past three days, he had learned that fear stank and was a contagion worse than any illness the city had ever seen.

On the third day, they finally called for him.

A servant girl with pale shaking hands helped him bathe, washing out his long dark hair. She combed sweet-smelling oils into his hair and rubbed others into his skin.

She helped to dress in a silk  _ hanfu _ he had never worn before. It was the finest one he owned, the fabric so soft it was like water flowing across his skin, golden yellow with dancing red dragons carefully embroidered across it. She tied a white band around his middle. The clothes of an emperor. In mourning.

When they were done, the girl stepped away and bowed low. “You look lovely,  _ Son of Heaven _ .”

Junhui stared at himself in the mirror, wondering if he was a boy playing the role of a god. His long dark hair shone, his face all smooth elegant curving lines. His eyes no longer laughed, the giddy playfulness of a child. Now they just stared blankly back, hurt and lost.

Junhui didn't recognize himself.

But if his father had been a descendant of dragons, then he too was. His blood was the legacy, was the strength of the kingdom. It was divine.

He looked beautiful, like the greatest of all emperors. But he felt like a common fool with a shattered heart and soul. Things had gone wrong. This was not a path he had chosen.

The guards did not dare touch him. They were unfamiliar to him with grim faces and their dark square uniforms and their sharp accents. From the north, clearly. They led him down a series of corridors, far from the royal family’s rooms and into that of guests.

Finally, they stopped in front of a door and one of the guards knocked.

“Come in.” A familiar voice from within instructed.

The sound of it made goosebumps rise on the back of his neck. Still, Junhui held his head high and folded his hands in front of him, waiting for the doors to open for him.

He strode into the room, stomach in a knot. He understood that this could be his sole chance to save himself, his empire. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

“Prince Junhui!” The familiar face of General Xu Minghao lit up upon seeing him. He isn't in uniform but in a simple red  _ hanfu _ behind a wooden desk. He stood and began to walk over to him, grinning. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to call for you. I wanted things to settle a bit first.”

“I’m the  _ emperor _ now,” Junhui corrected icily. No longer a prince. “ _ You _ killed my father.”

The smile on Minghao’s face faltered. He reached his long elegant hand out to stroke Junhui’s cheek softly. A too-familiar gesture. “It couldn’t be avoided, my moon.”

“It’s treason to touch me. I could have your hand for that. Your head. Your life.”

“I’ve done much worse than this, we both know it.”

Junhui took a step back, out of reach. He narrowed his eyes at Minghao.

In the year since they’d last been together the younger man had matured some. His jaw was sharper, the muscles of his shoulders more solid. His face was as pretty as ever though, with winsome rosebud lips and an adorable rounded nose to contrast his sharp dark eyes that reflected the stars in them. _ My stars. _

“How could you do this?” Junhui asked, voice soft and laced with hurt. The words tasted like ash in his mouth. “I don’t understand.”

“You said the only way we could be together is if you were the emperor,” Minghao said earnestly, eyes wide, pleading. “You said if you were emperor there would be no one to question you! To question our love or to cast doubt or disdain upon us. Don’t you understand? I did this for us."

Junhui's throat constricted painfully.

"So we could be together like we’re meant to be.”

Junhui  _ had _ said those things. He’d said them drunk on Minghao’s kisses between silk sheets. On moonlit walks through the palace gardens, their fingers interlaced. With his head thrown back in pleasure and Minghao’s cheeks against the soft skin of his inner thigh. He’d once asked Minghao how far he would go for him, and Minghao had answered all the way and then back again.

“ _ You left me _ ,” Junhui accused, tears burning in his eyes. “You left me here alone with no explanation. How was I supposed to react when my father told me that General Xu was going out to settle disputes in the north and hopefully patriate the wild tribes to the empire? No letter, no goodbye! You broke my heart leaving me, Hao.”

Minghao stared at him, working his bottom lip between his teeth. The uncertainty was unfamiliar to him, the doubt the first Junhui had ever seen on his father's general. On his childhood friend. On his truest of loves. 

A hot tear finally fell to Junhui’s cheek. His hands were shaking at his sides. He may have the blood of dragons, but he was still just barely more than a boy. He was still hurt and confused. This wasn't how things were supposed to happen. This was wrong.

“And now how am I supposed to feel that you have returned with an army larger than we’ve ever seen? You’ve sacked the city and put my father to the sword, what do you expect to happen now?”

“I’m sorry for hurting you, my moon,” Minghao whispered after a moment. He took a step and closed the distance between them. He hesitated to touch Junhui this time, his hand hovering in the air between them as if just now seeing the yellow silk of the emperor and realizing what it meant. Junhui was no longer  _ his prince _ or  _ his moon _ , he was the  _ emperor _ . Minghao had been the one to change things so irrevocably. This was  _ his _ doing.

Junhui swallowed the lump that had been growing in his throat, choking him of his words through the pain. “Are you expecting me to be crowned emperor and to dismiss you of your atrocious crimes? And then be able to parade you around as my lover? Do you not think that even the simple folk will question my judgment? My morality?”

“You didn’t ask me to do this, though. I did this of my own violation. I thought….” Minghao sighed. “I thought this would show your power. You have the largest army in the world now. You are the richest and most powerful emperor in history. They will write ballads about your beauty and your strength. Who are we the common people to question the emperor? You are not like us. You reign above all now.”

They were sweet words, meant to placate him. Minghao had always had sweet words for him since they were barely more than boys. He was fierce with a sword, had a mind for strategy, for fighting and winning. He was just as dangerous for the ability to make Junhui’s heart race and his chest ache. To sooth things with a kiss.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” Junhui said, voice breaking over the words. He held Minghao’s gaze locked with his own, demanding honesty. They’d always been honest with each other, or at least before Minghao had left him. But that omission was just as bad as a lie.

“Tell me, my  _ Lord of a Thousand Years _ , what do you believe?”

“I believe that I have no choice but to rule as emperor,” he answered softly, taking Minghao’s face between his hands, searching the round eyes shining back at him. “And I  _ know _ that I still love you, despite it all.”

He closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar and much-missed scent of Minghao. Their noses brushed against each other. This closeness seemed impossible after a year apart. A year heartbroken. And now they were finally reunited surrounded by destruction and death. Was this truly the only way? 

“How am I supposed to forgive you?” Junhui whispered, lips ghosting against Minghao’s.

“You are the emperor. You don’t have to do anything.”

Junhui choked back a laugh, another tear falling. “You have made me the greatest ruler of all time, but I fear the cost may have been too high. I don’t know what to do, my stars. Shall I decree that you were working under divine instruction from the heavens to bring in the new era? Wash all the blood from your hands with my royal heavenly tears?”

“I never meant to make you cry,” Minghao replied, kissing him finally.

The year between them melted away with familiar action. It was like coming home, tasting the other, feeling the warmth of their skin. It was like breathing Minghao in, hot and white. Junhui prayed for their love to be like the purest of fires, burning their sins away and leaving them clean.

“I just wanted us to be together.”

“And we will be,” Junhui said, unable to let go. He feared he would never be able to, having Minghao finally returned to him, even at this high cost. “I will declare you my phoenix paramour. You will be reborn. You will come out of this a man standing in the ashes of who you used to be. You will survive because of the love that burns within us is brighter and hotter than the flames of judgment of the outside world. Do you understand?”

Minghao nodded, dark eyes staring at him, holding Junhui hostage once again. Stars reflecting in his eyes.

Junhui wanted this to be easier. It still hurt. The ache remained in his chest, as did the burnt taste on his tongue. How many had died? How many had suffered? Was forgiving your lover for killing your father an unforgivable sin itself? Was it wrong to love a monster with good intentions?

Junhui had been the one to ask how far Minghao would go for him.

Now he knew.

“My dragon king, my moon, my dearest love," Minghao kissed him again. "I will welcome the fire. Anything for you.”

Junhui took a deep breath and kissed him once more. He had seen Minghao’s dark descent. He was now ready to see Minghao rise from the flames, more beautiful than ever.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/wizardwonu)


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